


Dreams that won't sail

by Ninetytwochairsonetable



Category: One Piece
Genre: Dreams, Exploration, Gen, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninetytwochairsonetable/pseuds/Ninetytwochairsonetable
Summary: "Why are the people acting like that?""Like what?""Like they're walking in a dream.""Because they are."Would you want to wake up from false perfection?
Kudos: 8





	Dreams that won't sail

**Author's Note:**

> I think the only warning for this is brief mention of suicide.  
> One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda. Thanks for looking.

**Dreams that won’t sail**

The crew landed on an island somewhere in the ocean. It’s a quiet place. The breezes were gentle, caressing their cheeks with soft kisses. Occasionally, a bird or two chirped a simple tune. The ever crashing waves seemed subdued on the shore. It was peaceful there.  


* * *

Even the residents appeared calm and quiet, as if a foggy mist of daze had settled over their eyes. They walked with sluggish steps and dreamy smiles. The sight of pirates did not bother these sleepy folks.  
“What is this island called?” asked Law. The woman he stopped quirked her head in his direction.  
She replied, “I don’t know.”  
“How do you not know?”  
“Does it really matter?” The woman left to tend to her duties. She left as slowly as she spoke.  


* * *

“This place is _strange_ , Captain,” his crew would tell him over the course of just two hours.  
They had rented a cheap inn with a carefree owner. The owner did not care they were pirates. He did not care if they only paid half of what he was owed. He did not care they stayed extra nights. He’d only say good morning and good night before returning to his papers.  
They tried to stock up on resources. None of the merchants cared they were cheated a few coins here and there. They were more interested in sitting at their stalls and watching the day crawl by.  
The people were as strange as the island herself.  


* * *

Law had asked everyone he met. No one knew what the island was called. No one cared. The island was nameless.  
Or perhaps, forgotten.  


* * *

“This place is uncharted,” a voice startled Bepo from his maps. He didn’t sense anyone near him. Above in the trees, he realized a woman had been watching him. She looked comfortable, as if she had been lounging on the branch long before Bepo arrived.  
“O-oh?” Bepo didn’t know how to respond. The woman was not bothered.  
“It’s uncharted and no log pose points to here. You and your friends are here by luck alone,” she continued.  
The woman was an interesting character. Her wild hair was just beginning to gray from age, her skin tanned from years in the sun. She wore the simple shirt and pants the other villagers wore, but hers had frayed edges with washed out colors.  
  
“Do you know what this island is called?” he asked. This woman was the only person on the entire island that could hold an informational conversation. Everyone else would smile dopily and leave without a goodbye. She was also the only one to start a conversation with the pirates.  
“Yes,” she answered.  
“What is it?”  
The woman cocked her head, her hair shifting. Her eyes were calculative, as if weighing the pros and cons of telling the bear what he wanted to hear.  
“Why do you want to know?” she asked.  
“It’d be nice to know where we are.” She sat upright and swung her legs back and forth, watching clouds lazily roll across the vast expanse of indigo.  
“It’s getting rather late, don’t you think?” she said in lieu of an answer. She climbed down her tree and walked away (barefoot, he noticed), farther into the woods. Bepo did not follow and watched her leave.  


* * *

“I found someone who knows the name of the island,” the bear brought it up during dinner that night. Everyone heard and stopped their movements, all other words on pause on their lips.  
"What is it?" asked Penguin.  
"She didn't tell me." “Who is she?” asked Shachi.  
“I… I don’t know her name,” Bepo realized. “But, she looked like a wild hermit.”  
“At least that narrows it down.”  


* * *

The captain asked around once more, this time about the strange woman. The villagers responded more enthusiastically about her, but just barely.  
“That’s Buddy,” the fisher said. “She’s the only one who lives on the other side of the chasm.”  


* * *

Law ventured into the woods Bepo reported seeing her. He walked past dozing flowers and resting birds. For a frightening second, he thought about joining the cats slumbering between the tree roots. He quickly shook the thought as he approached a bridge.  
It was a precarious looking thing. The villagers mentioned it was sturdy, but Law was not a man who took chances. He walked cautiously, on alert in case he had to Shamble his way across.  


* * *

It didn’t take long to find the woman. The bridge had led directly toward a derelict town. The woman sat outside the only properly managed house. She looked annoyed at his intruding, but sighed with resignation, as if she had been expecting him.  
“Are you Buddy?” he asked.  
“They called me Bud. Now they call me Buddy,” she said as she turned her eyes back to the cloud. White and fluffy, no rain in sight.  
“What’s this island called?”  
“Why are you so curious about what it’s called? Why does it matter so much?”  
“There’s something wrong with this place.”  
“Of course there is,” she muttered.  
“You know something.”  
“Of course I do.”  


* * *

The woman didn’t speak for a long time after that. Law decided to check the area as he had better things than to wait for her to feel like speaking again.  
Most of the buildings were rotting away, but some on the outskirts had signs of damage from fire, bullets, and blades. The nearby farm fields were scorched with new life already taken over them. From the bits and pieces of information he observed, he could safely assume there had been a battle, or at least, an attack of some sort.  


* * *

He returned to the woman’s house to find her inside reading the local papers. One glance at the front page told him the rest of the pages probably also contained pretty photos of flowers and idyllic landscapes.  
“I’ll tell you the name of the island if you tell me your name,” she said when he entered without permission. She did not care for his trespassing. Really, no one on the island had any self-preservation.  
“Trafalgar Law,” he replied.  
“This island was called Hwa.”  
"'Was'?"  
"It doesn't matter much anymore."  
“Why are the people acting like that?”  
“Like what?”  
“Like they’re walking in a dream.”  
“Because they are.”  


* * *

Law visited Buddy on his own over the next three days. Over those three days, he learned the island’s history.  
There were two tribes on that side of the chasm. One day, the two tribes began a war against each other for reasons lost to time. There were times of peace, but those only lasted until the tribes regained their strengths. The war dragged on for years and years.  
  
“And one day, when I was just a little girl, I ate a fruit.”  
“Did it taste like shit?”  
“Oh yes, it was horrid. But I hadn’t eaten anything for so long, it was the best thing I had.”  
“You ate a Devil’s Fruit.”  
“So I’ve learned later.”  
“What does it do?”  
“I can put this island in a waking dream.”  


* * *

Little Bud did not know how to control her newfound abilities. She didn't even know she had it. She did not understand what was happening. One day, starving and alone, she ate a fruit putrid beyond human recognition and fell asleep. Pleasant dreams she had. Dreams of a world in which the tribes made up and everyone was happy.  
She woke up to just that.  
She didn’t understand, but she was happy. The tribes packed up and crossed the chasm to the other side and built a new life. A new beginning.  
It was wonderful.  
Or so she thought.  


* * *

“I realized one day while sleeping that I could control my dreams. They call it lucid dreaming, and it’s not an ability to be gained from some mystical fruit.”  
“No, it’s not,” Law agreed.  
“But I realized I could control other people’s dreams as they slept. And then I found out I could make them believe their waking moments were a dream. A dream they think is real.”  
“You used your ability on the tribes without your knowing.”  
“Yes. I was horrified, really.”  
“But it’s a good thing, isn’t it? The war stopped and everyone is happy.”  
“Do you really think so?”  


* * *

“She wasn’t happy with what I said,” Law spoke. His medical texts lay forgotten next to his mug of coffee.  
“Oh yeah? What’d she say after that?”  
“She didn’t say anything. She gave me a mean look and shut the door on me.”  
“Haha, how rude!”  
“Right? I’m just glad we got off that island.”  
“Yes, and now you’re back here.”  
Law paused stirring his tea. He smelled ash and soot. Turning in his seat, he asked, “Is something burning?”  
His eyes were met with black feathers, silky smooth. They brushed his cheeks. His charts lay forgotten next to a glass of water.  
“Law, do you know how much I’m proud of you?” The feathers smelled like cigarette.  
“No. How much?” It was warm.  
“Law?” It was nice.  
“Yes?” It was perfect.  
“It’s time to wake up.”  


* * *

“How do you feel?” that woman asked. She watched over him with stern eyes. She was angry. Not at him, but his careless words. Those childish, naive words.  
He placed a hand over his eyes and said, “Like I died and this is hell.”  
“Now you know.”  
“Now I know.”  


* * *

Buddy helped Law to the sofa, him stumbling like a newborn foal, still drowsy from his unexpected nap. She set down lukewarm tea for the both of them.  
“I woke the tailor's son once I realized what I’d done,” she begun. Law listened.  
“I woke him up. He looked confused. Then horrified. He couldn’t accept what happened. That the life he was living was not reality. I don't know what exactly he dreamed of, but obviously it was perfect. I can only assume everyone thinks they’re living a perfect life.”  
“What happened to the tailor's son?”  
“He started walking without saying anything. So I followed, and from the cliff, I saw the ocean take his body.”  
“I see.”  
“Yes. I didn’t wake anyone else since.”  


* * *

The island was once called Hwa. The island’s people were at war with each other. And one day, they all went to sleep to wake up to their dreams of picture perfect.  
Law looked back at the island before a setting sun. He realized the woman was the only person on that island who did not dream. Did not dare to. The only person to live in fear on that island. To watch everyone walk lifelessly. To stare at truth as they slept in lies.  
Law didn’t like the experience he had on that island, but he thinks he learned something valuable.  
  
He closed the hatch with a resounding click.

**Author's Note:**

> If you were in Buddy's situation, what would you do?


End file.
